The Games We Play
by Vanillasiren
Summary: He's always been possessive. And she shouldn't like it, but she does. Set some time during Regina's apprenticeship with Rumplestiltskin, after she first met Jefferson. Also set after "Your Innocence is Mine" and before "Revenge is Sweet" in my timeline of OUAT stories.


The Games We Play

Summary: He's always been possessive. And she shouldn't like it, but she does. Set some time during Regina's apprenticeship with Rumplestiltskin, after she first met Jefferson. Also set after "Your Innocence is Mine" and before "Revenge is Sweet" in my timeline of OUAT stories. Inspired by and dedicated to xoitsCASS.

He doesn't like it.

He should be pleased, he tells himself. After all, this is one of the things he wants Regina to be well-versed in.

Charm. Flirtation. Seduction.

He'd just prefer she didn't do it right in front of him.

Though at this point, he's beginning to wonder if there isn't something more … _genuine_ in her interactions with the man.

And if so, what's so damn compelling about that stupid portal-jumper anyway?

Regina is leaning against the work bench in Rumplestiltskin's home, smiling at Jefferson. She feels her teacher's eyes on her, and she smiles wider, leaning in towards the man, making the conversation look more intimate than it is.

_It's about time he noticed._

"It's always a pleasure to see you, your majesty," Jefferson says in a pleasant, slightly teasing tone.

Regina supposes he does have a sort of certain rogue-ish sort of charm.

"I feel the same way, Jefferson. But you don't need to address me so formally. Here, I'm just … Regina." She offers him her hand, and he takes it and kisses it. She can feel Rumplestiltskin's eyes on them, and she can practically hear him scowling.

She fights the urge to laugh out loud. This is just too much fun.

"Regina," he repeats, and winks conspiratorially at her.

"Isn't it about time for you to be going, dearie?"

They both turn to him, then. "Oh, Rumplestiltskin, I almost forgot you were here."

"I doubt that very much." He does not look amused by Jefferson at all. "Don't you have a rabbit hole to fall into or something?"

"I think you have me confused with someone else." Still, seeing that look flashing in the Dark One's eyes, he's suddenly eager to depart. "Until next time, my dear Regina." With a final smile at her, he puts his hat back on, and vanishes in a flash of magic.

She turns, eager to gauge the reaction from her teacher, but Rumplestiltskin's eyes are already back on the table. He's mixing a potion.

"Well, he's gone. Are you going to just stand there being useless, or are you going to fetch me that wormwood?"

Regina sighs, and goes to do as he says.

It's some time later, after they've finished making the potion, when he grumbles, "You were laying it on a bit thick, don't you think?"

"Excuse me?" Regina looks up from cleaning the counter.

"With Jefferson, dearie. Seduction is delicate tool, but you were wielding it like a sledgehammer. If you're trying to deceive a man into thinking you want him, you best be a bit more _subtle_ about it."

Regina bites her lip to keep from smiling triumphantly. So it _had_ really bothered him, after all.

_Good._

"Who says I was pretending?"

He looks up at her. The expression on his face and the flash of his eyes would make anyone else afraid.

But it's not fear she feels now. Something close, but not quite.

"Careful, Regina." His voice is like silk on steel. "You need to be careful."

"Or else wha-?"

She doesn't even have time to finish, have time to draw another breath, before he's crushing her in his embrace, his lips heavy and urgent on hers, dominating, laying claim. Regina moans into his mouth, and fairly melts against him. And his hands move over her body possessively and her back hits the wall, she manages one coherent thought:

_Finally._

"You do love to play your little games, don't you, my wicked one?" He whispers, as his hands deftly unfasten her dress.

"I learned to play them from you," she whispers back. "Now take me to bed." It's both a demand and a plea.

"I can't possibly wait that long. I'm going to take you _right here_."*

Regina gives a helpless little moan as he lifts her up again the wall. She's still half-dressed, but they're frantic now, need and lust overriding everything else as he hikes her skirts up, and she unfastens him with shaky hands, and now he's babbling some nonsense about how if Jefferson ever so much as touches her again he'll take his head off, bad enough he has to share her with the king, and doesn't she know she's _his_?

"I'm not –" Regina starts to protest, but then he thrusts himself inside her, and she forgets to care.

"You were saying?"

"Oh gods Rumple," she pants, "Just shut up and take me."

He takes her hard and fast, up against the wall. There's a savage sort of passion to it, and her moans echo through the room, beautiful and wild, as she clings to him for dear life. Reveling in the overpowering sensations, she thinks that it is moments like this that allow to her survive. Moments of pure, mindless pleasure, moments where she can forget about pain and heartache and even revenge and just_ be_, just be alive, and happy.

And after he spends himself, and she comes with a final helpless cry, she can just be safe and sated in his arms.

When it's over, her trembling limbs wrap themselves around him, and he carries her to the bedroom. She rests her head in the crook of his neck, sighing against his skin. This is one of the rare nights she doesn't have to leave until morning, and she wants to stay awake and enjoy it, but she can already feel sleep beginning to claim her. She mutters something that's almost an apology for her drowsiness, but he shushes her, and the last thing she remembers is curling into him, and that strange feeling that right now, he's a bit more human than normal.

"You're not so different from the rest of us, Rumple. You have a heart."

"A black twisted little thing, to be sure."

"Maybe so." She leans her head against his chest. "But I can still hear it beating."

"Don't go getting sentimental on me now."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Regina mutters, and drifts off to sleep.

Rumplestiltskin presses a kiss to her forehead. "Dream of dark things, then," he whispers in her ear. He's playing a very dangerous game with her, he knows it, he's always known it, and sometimes he's not sure what he's going to win.

Or what he's going to lose.

"Dream of the curse to end all curses, Regina. Because one day, you're going to wield it for me. You don't know, my wicked one, you don't know how much you _are_ mine, after all."

*xoitsCASS also asked for "wall sex" (though not quite in this context). Still, feel free to blame her for the idea.


End file.
